


the sun which chased the moon

by Reynarius



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, angsty warcraft lesbians, long lost lovers, malfurion doesnt deserve tyrande, soft, sort of AU deal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-07 17:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15913104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reynarius/pseuds/Reynarius
Summary: “Enough games, banshee queen. Have you come to gloat over your victory? To take my life? Or perhaps both?”“I’ve come for you, to tell you...Malfurion Stormrage is dead.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU fic where in Sylvanas and Tyrande are long lost lovers and during the war of thorns, they get to reunite.

Tyrande stood alone at the precipice of Teldrassil, in a long forgotten hollow she had crafted so that she might seek the guidance of Elune in peace. Not that it would serve much purpose now.

At this very moment she supposed it was where she would witness her city, _her people_ be slaughtered by the oncoming Horde. The smoke rising from the coast of Darkshore, the distant echoes of battle.

No, not battle -  _needless slaughter._

“You did always look... _stunning_ in the moonlight.” A voice spoke from behind her. So familiar yet still mere echo of the one she had once known.

_“Windrunner.”_

Her name acknowledged, the Banshee Queen herself stepped from the shadows. She cracked a small smile when the High Priestess turned to face her, anger laced across her expression. But a hint of something else danced through her eyes and Sylvanas was too watchful to miss it. A flicker of longing perhaps?

“You have not changed, Whisperwind.” She remarked.

Tyrande scowled, _"Y_ _o_ _u_ have.”

Sylvanas shrugged nonchalantly, quipping back, “One’s own death will do that.”

With a frustrated sigh and her last thread of patience gone, Tyrande snapped, “Enough games, _banshee queen._ Have you come to gloat over your victory? To take my life? Or perhaps both?”

“I have come for you, to tell you...Malfurion Stormrage is _dead_.”

The world came to a grinding halt then, like everything had been traveling a million miles an hour and suddenly it just _stopped._ Tyrande getting thrown forward into...whatever this feeling was.

_Relief? Grief?_

No, an odd combination of both she supposed. 

“Truly?” She whispered, unable to process the news.

Sylvanas bowed her head, her typically cold and cruel demeanor fading in favor for something softer, “I swear it. You are free now.”

For a moment, the High Priestess felt her heart ache. Malfurion had been a lifelong friend and while she was married to the man - it had not been a marriage born out of love nor want, at least not on her part. It was a unity that their people had drawn strength from. It was for the betterment of the people that they wed.

Now he was gone, and she was free of that marriage. Free to let her heart desire whoever it so chose.

“He was not a bad man, despite knowing that I did not feel for him as he felt for me - he was kind as friends are. His...death, it still does wound my heart.” Tyrande spoke. Her voice wavered, blinking back the tears stinging the back of her eyes.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sylvanas tense just so, red eyes narrowing. The High Priestess cast her gaze away, she told herself it was nothing, the Banshee Queen felt nothing anymore and to think otherwise would be a foolish endeavor. Any past they had, any love they once felt for each other, it would not be a memory which they revisited today.

Or so she thought.

“I thought - I  _think_ about you, more than...I care to admit.” Sylvanas’ voice was barely recognizable and yet, _so familiar._ As if it had lost any of the darkness brought on by undeath.

Tyrande said nothing, choking down the words that fought so hard to escape from her chest. Gentle words, born of a love long lost, one they had been forced to bury so many life times ago. She could not reignite that fire, not now - not during these times of _war._

“You were my fading thought, as Frostmourne pierced my body. I could only think of you.”

A cold hand came to rest upon her hip, Tyrande forced her eyes shut as she felt Sylvanas step closer and closer. Until the point that she was pressed against her back, lips grazed the curve of the High Priestess’ ear and chilled her skin.

“Sylvanas. _Don’t..._ ”

Clawed fingertips gently trailed down the length of her arm, pulling a shudder from her. Lazily, those fingers traced circles across her flesh, “Do you realize how often I have thought of you since? I remembered how it felt to have you in my arms, feeling you shudder just like that.”

Her fangs teased the edges of Tyrande’s ear, nearly forcing a gasp to roll forth from her lips. “I would lie for hours motionless, thinking only of you. What it felt like to touch you, or to see you simply smile.”

 _“Please…”_ Tyrande just barely managed to rasp out, her heart aching oh, so painfully. Not out of grief, but of that buried love. Feelings echoed in her chest, making her stomach tense in anticipation.

“Did you think of me too, I wonder?”

The High Priestess wanted to scream yes, a thousand times over - _yes_. For every night she laid in a bed with a man she felt no love for and all she could do was dream of Sylvanas. To hear that voice again, to feel those hands and lips upon her skin one last time. Just to simply be with her love. But hesitation and doubt wracked her body, locking those pleas in her chest.

Sylvanas stepped back when she said nothing, she had been everywhere, filling her senses. But now she was simply _gone._ It had been enough of a shock and deprivation that the priestess whimpered.

“What is it that you want, Tyrande? Truly?” Her voice called out to her, beckoning her to make her choice.

This time, she had no trouble finding her words. War be damned, she could not deny this longing a second more.

_“You.”_

She turned then to find the Banshee Queen just staring back at her, red eyes wide in shock. Like she had not been expecting that as a possibility, let alone the answer she would receive.

“You...are certain?”

Tyrande didn’t speak, she just forced in a breath and moved toward Sylvanas. Each step made her quiver a little more, her heart raced faster and her legs felt as though they would give out from beneath her. Too long, it had been far too long.

Damn this feeling, this longing for the Lady Windrunner. No more, she could stand it no more. She wasn’t sure in that moment if it was her mind playing tricks as she saw the Dark Lady moved to meet her halfway.

The High Priestess leaned in just as Sylvanas herself did, yet there was a flicker of hesitation. Cool steel grazed her cheek, red eyes piercing into blue. Tyrande let out a soft breath, leaning in to kiss her lover before a thumb pressed against her chin held back her advance.

Faces mere inches apart is how they lingered, the warmth of breath ghosted across cold lips. Years apart, all the want and _need_ built to a point where they could not fight it a moment longer. When the pressure of Sylvanas’ thumb fell away from her chin, they both knew there was no stopping those feelings. Not anymore.

They kissed softly and pulled apart, a small gasp falling from Tyrande’s lips. Eyes searched for doubt, or hesitation but neither found a trace any longer. Unable to contain herself any longer, Sylvanas pulled her back in for another kiss. Slow, lingering and with it came crashing back all the memories of a what seemed to be another lifetime.

One kiss melted into a second, then a third and soon they lost count. Kissing deeper with each passing second, with a fervent need that neither of them had felt for a great many years. It was a passion reignited that was more than enough to leave Tyrande breathless, lungs burning for air.

She whimpered as their kiss broke, forcing herself to actually remember to breathe in that moment. Her breaths dancing across the Dark Lady’s face, warming chilled flesh. The pair clung to one and other like they were afraid that this was some cruel dream and when they awoke, they would be alone once again.

Sylvanas pressed her forehead down against the High Priestess’ and grit her teeth hard, shaking in her lover’s embrace. That sensation was overpowering - the memories were too much, too overwhelming. She had dug perhaps a little too deep then, let too much out.

“My sun…stay with me.” Tyrande murmured softly, pressing her lips to the corner of her mouth. Her thumbs stroking against Sylvanas’ cheeks slowly, trying to bring her back to this moment.

A low laugh fell from the Dark Lady following a soft growl, “ _Sun_ , it would appear that does not fit me any longer now does it, my _moon_?”

Shutting her eyes, Tyrande hummed softly. She nuzzled her face affectionately against Sylvanas’ before she purred, “You are still very much my sun, for many reasons.”

“Because I am forever destined to chase you and yet never quite reach you?”

The High Priestess opened her eyes, frowning. “Do not say such things, please.”

Sylvanas sighed. “You’re right...I apologize, I am just - feeling too much.”

“Tell me, talk to me.”

Hands curled up to hold Tyrande’s face, fingers stroking against her skin. The Banshee Queen seemed to be lost in thought as she mindlessly traced patterns on her lover’s flesh, listening to the pulse racing beneath her fingertips.

“You make me feel alive again. I have _needed_ you for so long, and I cannot lose you again - I _won’t._ ”  She spoke suddenly, red eyes flaring with her emotions.

Taking hold of the hands on her, Tyrande guided one to rest upon her hip and the other to rest over her heart. Smiling sweetly at Sylvanas, whispering softly, “You have _always_ had me, neither distance nor time can keep us apart - not anymore.”

“I love you, I always have.” Sylvanas murmured, stealing another soft kiss from the High Priestess.

“I love you too, my sun.” Tyrande replied between soft kisses, feeling her heart swell with adoration.

Without hesitation, she used her grip on the Dark Lady to pull her around and into the shelter of the hidden room. Together they took slow, deliberate steps back, eyes never parting from the others. Tyrande’s heart was racing a mile a minute, the wordless promise of what was to come had a whole different sort of anticipation coiling tight in her abdomen.

Raising an eyebrow, Sylvanas spoke up. “Should I be concerned about where you are dragging me off to?”

“Has bedding me ever been something to be concerned about?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im just gay i have no other explanation for this  
> also malfurion doesnt deserve tyrande and thats the tea


	2. the moon and all her stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> there was much to mend, much to explain. for a moment none of it mattered. nothing but the moon and all her stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyways, tyrande and sylvanas are long lost lovers and i wont be told otherwise

“I have missed you so, my moon.”

Sylvanas’ voice broke the comfortable silence that had passed over them, limbs tangled together under heavy furs. Once chilled flesh now felt warm from the heat of passion. Tyrande couldn’t help but smile as she traced her fingers along the curve of her lover’s neck and along her shoulders. For this brief time, they were just two souls, so undeniably in love and bound together.

“I have missed you even more, my sun. My heart, it has ached every day we were apart.” The High Priestess whispered, pressing a reverent kiss to the Dark Lady’s shoulder.

Purring, Sylvanas shifted positions until her body was draped over Tyrande’s. “Then allow me to soothe that ache. I will not allow us to be apart any longer.”

Threading her fingers through her lover’s hair, Tyrande pulled her in for another kiss. Slow and sweet, content hums fell from their lips as they clung to one and other. The pair were a sight to behold, bathed in the light of the moon and embraced like it was their last evening together.

And a part buried deep within both of them knew it likely was. That this moment right here would not last forever, regardless of how much they wished it so.

"Elune be damned, I will stick to worshiping you... _Absolute Goddess._ " 

Sylvanas’ hands grasped and clung to every inch of the High Priestess’ skin, pressing themselves closer together. Her lips traveling down, grazing against the curve of her jaw to find purchase against her throat. Near growling at the feeling of having Tyrande’s pulse racing beneath her kisses.

“Mmm, you are  _ insatiable.  _ More so than I remember you being, keep it up and I may ask you to take me again.” 

A musical laugh came from Sylvanas and she grinned wickedly against her lover’s skin, “Would a second round truly be so bad? I do so love to hear you crying out to your goddess for me -  _ in pleasure of course _ .”

Tyrande rolled her eyes and pulled Sylvanas back in, murmuring between their kisses, “I would do anything for you, you need only ask it of me, my sun.”

“Then marry me.”

Their kiss broke suddenly. Her heart seemed to skip several beats at those words and she gasped, eyes wide.

“Pa-pardon…?” She stammered.

Sylvanas tilted her head up, allowing a hand to trail down Tyrande’s cheek. “I mean it, become my wife. Allow me to forge a peace between our factions and our peoples.”

“Why? When you have only brought War to these lands and killed Malfurion? No other leader would allow it, not now.” The High Priestess’ words hit with more venom than she had meant them to, but Sylvanas was not undeserving of it.

The Banshee Queen did not flinch, she simply rolled off of her lover and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Her head bowed for a moment. “I know my actions...have been abhorrent as of late, but they are for reasons beyond most other’s comprehension.” 

The haunted expression that crossed over her face when she looked back towards her lover told Tyrande all she needed to know. If even the Dark Lady of the Forsaken appeared unnerved, then it was never a good sign.

“You hear them too then? The whispers of the old gods calling out to you?”

Sylvanas nodded. “They...whispered of an evil that would come from below the waves. If I did not attack your lands, kill the man you called husband and start another war to plunge this world into chaos - they would slaughter us all.”

She paused, staring down at her own hands. “That is why I came. While I stood on the shore, gazing upon Teldrassil -  _ they demanded I burn it to the ground.  _ You along with it.”

“Yet you couldn’t, and that is why you are here.”

“Yes, I needed to tell you. To warn you, I could not go through with it. Killing Malfurion was too easy, but you...”

A scoff fell from her lips and she turned away. “It would appear you are my weakness, High Priestess. I am sorry, for what I have done.”

Tyrande put a hand on Sylvanas’ cheek, turned her head back and forced their eyes to meet, “And they showed you the visions too, did they not? The rivers of blood, mountains of broken bodies. Of blackened waves crashing over our cities, a wall of a thousand glowing red eyes looming over this world?”

Sylvanas nodded, gritting her teeth. “I will kill the old gods, with my bare hands if I must. I do not enjoy being  _ toyed with _ . No force, not even them and their dark powers will stop me from protecting you.”

The High Priestess pressed a kiss to her lips, murmuring sweetly, “Shhh, quell your rage, my sun. You do not need to face this alone any longer, we shall take this directly to Anduin.”

“With that old worgen in his ear? He would sooner execute me than allow me within five feet of his precious Stormwind.” The Banshee Queen sneered, muscles shuddering beneath her lover's hands.

Tyrande pressed herself closer to Sylvanas, trailing soft kisses across her shoulder. Fingers stroking down along the curve of her spine, she murmured sweetly into her skin, “He will listen, he  _ must.  _ With the fate of all our futures at stake, he cannot afford to be blind. And…”

The pause in her voice made her lover turn her head, looking back over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “And?”

“If you and I were to  _ wed _ ...he might have enough patience to at least hear our pleas and we just may have a chance for peace.”

Sylvanas stared at Tyrande for a moment, red eyes unmoving, unblinking until suddenly a small smile crept up onto her face. “Is that a yes I hear then?”

She tapped her fingers against Sylvanas’ arm, slowly moving her hand down to trace circles on her skin. Eyes lighting up as she leaned in to whisper in her lover’s ear.

“Yes, a thousand times over,  _ yes _ \- I will marry you, Sylvanas Windrunner.”

Her vow sealed with a tender kiss placed upon Sylvanas’ lips, feeling the queen’s hand come up to thread through her hair. Their kiss lingered, deepening and remaining ever so sweet. It was a pact, wordless but no less meaningful. 

The warnings of a looming demise echoed in the back of her mind but Tyrande felt no fear, not in this very moment. She would not be alone - Sylvanas would be by her side through all of it. Souls finally bound as they were always meant to be.

With a soft exhale, Tyrande pulled away from the kiss and whispered against the Banshee Queen’s lips, “We...should go as quickly as possible, cease the hostilities in Darkshore and then make haste for Stormwind.”

“Mmm, but I would much rather stay right here with you.” Sylvanas teased, stealing another kiss from her priestess.

“And as much as I would enjoy that, you have things to make right, my sun. We must end a war before it begins and prepare to face the Old Gods themselves.” The High Priestess chided, leaning back from her lover.

Without another word, she rose from the bed and moved to fetch her long forgotten robes. Sylvanas watched her through half lidded eyes, so closely as Tyrande moved about the room to compose herself. So many life times of her missing out on this sight, it was a crime truly.

The Dark Lady too rose from the bed, fetching her armor and returning it to shield her form. Feeling a little more secure with the familiar weight of leather and steel to guard her body. When she turned to stare back at Tyrande, she found the night elf staring right back at her.

“You look lovely, my moon.” 

A smile curled up on her face. “And you look stunning, my sun.”

Chuckling, Sylvanas approached. “You really must find me a new pet name, I am not the same elf you once loved to call your sun.”

“Perhaps, but I still firmly believe that it fits you all the same.” Tyrande teased, leaning in to steal a kiss.

“Might I ask why?”

The High Priestess toyed with some of the straps of Sylvanas’ armor, mainly checking if they were fastened properly. Her voice low as she replied, “Because you are there even when darkness is all around, you shine - no matter what.”

“I...that was in fact, the most sickeningly sweet thing I have ever heard you say. If I had a beating heart, I am quite certain it would have stopped by now.” The Banshee Queen quipped, flashing her fangs as she grinned.

“But it is nothing but truthful,  _ my sun.” _

They both laughed, peace settling in their bones for the briefest of moments before Tyrande gazed out at the moon. “It is time for us to go, Sylvanas.”

“Yes, just...one last thing before we depart.”

She turned back to look at her lover, finding that Sylvanas had a hand extended out towards her and a small ring sat in her palm. It was nothing fancy or extravagant but Tyrande could tell it was a possession that meant the world to her.

“This is yours now, and with it - you shall be able to reach me, wherever I may be.” 

With a soft smile, she allowed the Dark Lady to ease the ring onto her finger where the old one from Malfurion had once rested. A flicker of hurt passed through her heart at the thought and Sylvanas saw, a hand coming up to cup her cheek. 

“No amount of apologies can ever be enough for what I have done, but I am sincere with them all.” 

Tyrande smiled sadly, bowing her head as her lover pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know you are, my sun. I know.”

There was a flicker of magic and a portal appeared next to them, through it she could see the shores nearest to Lor’danel. It was their first stop, one of many. Stop the war before it began and prepare to fight back the wrath of the old gods.

They shared one last glance at one and other, before the High Priestess gestured towards the portal. 

“Destiny awaits us, Lady Windrunner. Let us not keep it waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i spent all day working on this second chapter and making it as soft as i could to spite the garbage that has come into MY tag  
> but also I fixed Warcraft Lore at the same time so y'all are welcome : ) ) ) )


End file.
